


Cold Nights

by begformercytwice



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Night Terrors, young loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/begformercytwice/pseuds/begformercytwice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki had night terrors as a child. Only Frigga was there to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Nights

"My lady," whispered the servant girl, laying a hesitant hand on the queen's sleeping shoulder. "My lady? The prince is awake again. He will not be calm for any of us. Forgive me for disturbing your ladyship's rest, but I did not know what else to do."

Frigga slowly pushed herself upright against the pillows. She'd barely been asleep for an hour, after being on her feet all day, and now this. She blinked and pushed her hair out of her face. "Another of the nightmares?"

"Yes, my lady. We gave the prince the tonic your ladyship recommended, before we put him to bed, but it appears not to have worked. Please, your ladyship; I fear he may hurt himself."

*

When she reached his room, he had at least stopped screaming, if only from sheer exhaustion. He was lying curled in the centre of his sweat- and urine-soaked bed, sobbing painfully, while the various servants gave him a wide berth. She gave each of them in turn a disapproving look as she approached the bed, but in truth she couldn't blame them. The boy could no more control his magic than she could at his age, and there had been more than one injury sustained while trying to restrain him as a terror ran its course.

"Hush now, my baby. Mother is here," she said, dismissing the attendants with a wave of her hand. They filed out, palpably relieved, in silence. "Come now, it was only a dream. It's all gone now. Can mother see your sweet little face? You know how it makes her smile so."

He moved one arm slightly, enough to allow one bloodshot, swollen eye to peer out. His sobs had begun to subside, and his breath came in short gasps, as though he were being suffocated. She brushed his hair to one side with her fingers. Such a gift, she thought, and a curse, that fate had brought them in this child. Such potential for wisdom, for patience, for understanding, invested in one who could never rule.

Gently, she lifted his shivering body from the sodden linen, and enveloped him in the billowing robe she wore. She drew him close to her to warm him, and gently rocked him, like she had so many times when he was an infant. "Look, baby," she said, carrying him over to the window and the warm night air. "Look at the stars. Can you see the stars?". He responded by burying his head further into the folds of fabric. "Do you wish to see the pretty stars?" She paused, then shifted him in her arms, and held out her hand. "Look, do you wish to see the stars in your chamber? They travelled all the way here to see you!"

He looked up just in time to see the three pinpricks of light appear in her palm and begin to float into the air. For a moment, he stared, eyes wide with amazement, and then his face broke into a smile. He reached out his hand towards the lights, which danced and twinkled between his tiny fingers. He clenched his fist around them, but they darted away, and his childish giggle in the silent air sounded like the sweetest music to her.

In time, he fell asleep again, watching the tiny lights drift away into the sky. She carefully cleaned him up and changed his nightclothes, and carried him back to sleep in her chambers. She kissed his forehead as she laid him down, saying a silent benediction that he would sleep peacefully that night, and for many nights afterward.

*

"You coddle that boy," her husband said, as she got back into her own bed. She hadn't seen him in her rooms for weeks. His kingly duties kept him too busy, he'd said. "He will grow up soft and weak, and you will not always be around to keep him safe. You would do well to remember what he is."

"I know it well, husband," she said, without looking at him. "He is my son."


End file.
